Love of the Journalist
15. The Unknowable
...15. Unknowable...
Kirei
National Press Day as well as the birthday of the Indonesian Journalists Association (PWI) was held at the meeting hall in Kuningan, South Jakarta.
Attended by hundreds of journalists throughout Indonesia who are members of the Indonesian Journalists Association organization. Including Kirei who represents TVS.
She and Aldi were supposed to be present, but coincided with the day of her engagement with her lover, she ended up representing herself from TVS.
The engagement?
Should he be happy or sad? Happy because the boss is also happy which will spread to everyone. Or sad because the two annoying creatures will unite and whether in the future will be like what?
More violent? Spicier when talking like the devil's chili sambal onion his favorite, or .... Ah, the girl smiled remembering Aldi with everything that made her upset, emotional and sometimes good.
The show is in the middle. After previously Mr. President of RI gave a welcome word. Now stepping on the friendly event.
In the afternoon he stopped by the art gallery which was in the next room still in the same building. There are various historical photos that tell the journey of the formation of the press in Indonesia and the history of the formation of the PWI organization.
Various snapshots of the results of journalists who enter the journalist award every year are also on display there.
Instantly his body froze and was transfixed when right in his eyes caught a photo with writing,
...‘Solidarity Reporters for Demas’...
Then next to it was emblazoned ten rows of names of journalist murder cases, with the name ‘Demas Prasetyo’ being in first place.
His eyes were heating up, the clear liquid that was accumulating on his eyelids instantly decayed. Chests rumbling. Like a sharpened dagger on his chest, so sore, pain to twitch, and tightness.
“You know Demas?” ask someone standing next to him.
But he still flinch.
I don't know since when someone was next to him and since when to pay attention to him.
“Case Demas is the longest murder case yet revealed” he continued.
“I guess, you have an emotional connection with Demas?”
He finally turned his head to the side, for the sake of seeing someone who asked him to speak and it was about the death of the most precious person in his life. His father was Demas Prasetyo.
“Include, I'm Laira.” He reached out his hand as he turned to the man.
Small smile he replied, “Kirei,” while welcoming a helping hand.
“You from TVS?” laira asked, but she did not answer. Clearly in the name tag hanging around his neck was his name and the origin of the media. It clearly explains his identity.
“You know about Demas' death?” tanyanya enthusiastic. His eyes returned to the photo.
“Slightly. But the obvious case is the unknowable ..”.
Eyebrows wrinkling. The unknowable?
He was 10 years old when his father died after three days in hospital.
Indeed, because of his death due to the persecution of robbery cases that he heard. And the man who mistreated my father is already in prison, the case is over. He still doesn't understand!
“You won't find this Demas murder case anywhere. The media seems to be in silence, because the case is considered finished because the suspect has been arrested and in prison. But it was all for the sake of covering up the big mastermind behind his case,” Laira said by staring at the photo in front of him.
“But Demas is one of ten journalists who until now have not been clear because of his death. Hopefully no more Demas-Demas who fared the same.” Laira slumped by leaving him still riveted.
The next night during a gala dinner at the same place he met again with Laira. The curly-haired man turned out to be a member of the press council.
Talk for a while, then exchange mobile numbers.
“Can I request an article or file about Demas' death,” he said on the sidelines of the gala dinner event that is almost over.
The man nodded, “Maybe, send his address to my phone.”
**
She hesitated to open the newly received chocolate envelope upon arriving at the apartment. Dirogohannya some sheets of paper that seems to have worn out because of the color of the paper that fades. Articles that are contained in old newspapers and magazines that are now not in circulation.
...‘Senior journalist Demas Prasetyo murdered for news’...
When his mouth was open, he closed with his palm. His body was hollow, limp helpless and unable to support. Crumble. The paper he was holding fell on the floor.
With a quick and hasty movement he grabbed the phone still stored in his sling bag.
His fingers trembled as he pressed the name of a person on the contact list. The voice from across.
“Hallo ..”
“Rei, why Rei?”
“Kakak is still overtime in the office.”
He is still in his composure.
Silence pauses.
“K-Saw ...” With a trembling and stern voice.
“Ya, why Rei? You sick?”
“A-what's right ... A-dad died of being killed?”
Silent.
Silent.
Silent.
Quite a long time of silence stretched between the two.
“You know from where, Rei?”
“Jawab Brother! What true?!” His urges were full of emotion.
“Kakak can not explain in detail by phone. We'd better meet if we want to discuss that.”
“What's true, Brother?” again with a pushy look.
There was a heavy sigh on the other end, “Ya,”
Phone connection disconnected.
Her tears rolled down her cheeks. Anger and disappointment surrounded him. For fourteen years he was like a foolish man taking for granted the explanation that his father died of a robbery and the case was over. But the reality he just received was different. Where has justice been for him and his family?
Even with the mother and her brother who never offended the cause of the death of the father. Maybe when his father died he was 10 years old, did not know anything. All this time, he felt fooled.
His phone shook and roared but he ignored it. Name ‘my brother’ several times appeared there.
Not intermittently several times the sound of the notification remains unheeded.
He's so tired. The reality he faced disappointed him. Either disappointed in himself or disappointed in the people who had been hiding the truth or disappointed in the people who made his father die tragically.
His body lay curled up while holding a photo of the father riding a horse with him 14 years ago. His tears did not stop, even more violently scattered until he sobbed great.
Forgive Kirei, Dad. Only now did Kirei know this truth. Kirei promised to demand justice for father. Say it in the heart.
***
Kenichi
His heart did not calm down after his sister called him suddenly. Several times he scooped his face rough. Restoring his black mane to disheveled.
He let out a rude sigh, after several times trying to call back and send a message that was not reciprocated. Worrying. Fearful. Worriedly. His feelings and thoughts raged.
It is this day that he fears. For several years he hid and closed the meeting finally revealed as well. He and his mother were sincere. I tried to forget the incident and live a new life. But why should the sister know in the end?
Although he knows very well, the profession of the younger brother as a journalist has a great opportunity to quickly find out the cause of his father's death.
He must be disappointed and angry with her. Because as an older brother he hid, and he found out from others.
“Excuse Brother, Rei.” He murmured with a sorry face.
A thousand reasons that he has upheld so far actually became a boomerang for himself.
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